New York Chief of Detectives (3 page)

Angie sat down in front of Pat’s massive desk.

“What do we need to work on, Chief?”

“I’m forming a task force to work this case. We need to reach out and bring about ten guys in for this.  Captain Brian Flannery, from Manhattan North Homicide will be the commander.  I know that this didn’t occur in Manhattan, but he’s worked more on-the-job homicides than anyone else in the Detective Bureau.”

“Is he in the loop yet?”

“No, but I’ll bring him up to speed after we get the ball rolling on the others.”

“Where do we start, boss?”  

“We’ll have Mary McDonald and Mike Logan from the ‘One-Oh-Seven.’ They caught the original job in Queens.  I want Karla Adams and Wilbur Stone from the US Marshal’s Fugitive Task Force. Between the two of them, they know more about cell phones and phone records than Ma Bell. Also, we’ll need a computer geek like Dennis Phillips at Cyber Crimes, and call the Real Time Crime Center to see if we can get Polly Greenburg. I want Sergeant George McBain from CSU because he’ll be the most familiar with the evidence and the crime scene, and he’s just about the most thorough guy over at CSU.  When I talk to Bryan Flannery, I’ll have him bring one more detective from the homicide task force and we need a couple of detectives fluent in Spanish. That part of Queens is heavy-duty Hispanic. Cut orders in my name placing them on the Rodriguez task force. I’ll have Flannery get you three more names ASAP.”

“Okay, Chief, anything else?”

“Have them report at 0800 hours tomorrow morning to our office at One PP in the Major Crimes Conference Room.” 

“I’ve got it.”

“Thanks, Angie.”

As Angie left Pat’s office, he dialed Bryan Flannery’s cell number. Bryan answered on the first ring.

“Manhattan North Homicide Task Force, Captain Flannery.”

“Hello, Bryan, this is Pat O’Connor.”

“Yes sir, Chief, what can I do for you?”

“I’m pulling you into my office temporarily to run the Rodriguez investigation. It’ll be a ten-man task force. I’ve already picked seven. I need you to pick a couple of guys that speak Spanish and bring one good solid homicide detective with you.”

“Sure, Chief, I appreciate your confidence.”

“Make your selections quickly, Bryan, and let Angie Wilson in my office know within the hour. She’s cutting the orders right now.”

“When do we start, Chief?”

“0800 tomorrow morning in the Major Crimes Conference Room here at One PP.”   

“Yes sir, I’ll give Lieutenant Wilson a call.”

“Thanks, Bryan, see you then.”

Pat called his driver.   “I’m going to take the car tonight, Dickie. Can you catch a ride?”

“Sure, Chief, but are you sure you don’t need me to do anything?”

“I have something I need to handle personally.”

CHAPTER 6

Saturday, April 3-Day 2

Rodriguez Residence

Borough of Brooklyn, New York

1900 Hours

Patrick
O’Connor had never been to Tony and Caroline Rodriguez’s home before. He popped a Chet Baker CD into the dash of the Chrysler as he left One PP. Those beautiful sounds contrasted with the life Baker lived, since he had died a junkie.

Pat found the Rodriguez home without difficulty. The white frame house was well-kept with a little picket fence around the yard. There were two uniformed cops in front of the house. Pat waved to the officers as he walked up the steps to the front door.  Caroline Rodriguez answered the door. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her face already looked weathered from crying.

“Thanks for coming, Chief. Tony was so proud of you.”

“I was very proud of Tony, Caroline. After all these years, please call me Pat.”

“Tony always called you ‘Chief’ out of respect.”

“I know how much Tony loved his job and how much he loved you, Caroline. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Pat. He was all I had.”

“We’ll be here for you, and I promise that we’ll get the person responsible for this.”

“I know you’ll do everything possible and I appreciate the officers being out front. But it’s so hard to look at them now. I don’t think it’s necessary.”

“We don’t really know what Tony was working on last night. Until we do, I’m not taking any chances with your safety.”

Pat hugged Caroline Rodriguez, and they wept together.

“This is my card. I’ve written all my numbers on it. Please call me if you need anything, twenty-four seven.”

“Thank you, Pat, I know how busy you must be.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

Pat got back in the Chrysler. Chet Baker was still playing above the constant chatter of the police radio.  Pat was sorting through the day’s events as he drove off. New York traffic could be difficult, but Pat had driven these streets in New York long enough that it didn’t faze him. He parked the Chrysler in the loading zone across from the Steamboat Cafe. He threw the placard on the dash that stated; “Official Business NYPD.”

Pat grabbed his horn from the trunk and walked into the cafe. It had changed little, even after all these years. The sign out front advertised the Warren Downing Quartet. Warren was a better than average clarinet player whom Pat had known for years.

“Hi Pat, I feel safer already.”

“Thanks Sam. Warren and the boys are sounding good.”

“They’ll sound better when you get your trumpet out.”

“I appreciate the accolades, but I’ll have a burger and just listen for a while.”

Sam Spicer seated Pat at a table near the band and went to place his order. Sam was an old jazz buff.  He and Pat had traded old jazz records for years.

Pat finished his burger, and was enjoying his coffee when the band took a break. Warren Downing sat down at Pat’s table.

“So how’s my favorite trumpet player?”

“I’m fine, but I guess you’ve heard about our friend, Tony Rodriguez.”

“I did hear about it, but until now I didn’t realize it was the same Tony who used to come in the club to hear you play.”

“Yep, he helped bring me on the job. He salvaged me from my dynamic jazz career.”

“Well, Pat, you were the smart one, and the rest of us are still barely scratching out a living. I’m just glad you never stopped playing.”

“Me, too, because without this escape hatch, I’d go crazy.”

“You gonna’ sit in?” 

“Sure, but just for one tune. I wanna play ‘Just a Closer Walk’ for Tony.”

“I should’ve known.”

Pat took to the stage when the band went back on. He picked up the microphone.

“Ladies and gentleman, today this city lost one of its finest, Detective Second Grade Tony Rodriguez. This next song is for my friend.”

Pat put the trumpet to his lips and played the familiar gospel song.

CHAPTER 7

Sunday, April 4-Day 3

Chief of Detectives’ Office, One Police Plaza

Borough of Manhattan, New York

0730 Hours

On
Sunday morning, Pat picked up Dickie Davis and parked the Chrysler at One PP at 0730 hours. Angie Wilson was already in the office.

“Good morning, Chief, I made contact with everyone on the list, and they should all be here. About half of them are already in the conference room. There’s fresh coffee and some doughnuts in there, also.”

“Great! In the business we call those ‘P. E. P’s,’ Police Energy Pills.”

“I hope you enjoy ‘em, Chief.”

Pat grabbed a couple of doughnuts and poured himself a cup of steaming hot coffee. He went to his office, and checked his last minute emails and messages. There was a message from “Harry the Hatchet.”

“Hi, Pat, it’s Harry Doogin here. I need to know what time your briefing is, so I can get a couple of my guys in there.”

Pat would call him back after the briefing was over.

Pat walked into the conference room. “Good morning ladies and gentlemen. I want to start with a brief moment of silence in memory of Detective Second Grade Anthony P. Rodriguez.”

Pat waited about 30 seconds.

“Thank you. We have a lot of work to do. Each of you has been personally selected by Captain Flannery or me for this assignment. Lieutenant Wilson will do a roll call. Please answer, and give your current assignment. We’ve already assigned partners.”

Angela Wilson walked to the podium, and began going over the task force members.

“Mary McDonald?”

“I’m here, Lou, 107th Squad.”

“Mike Logan?”

“Here, 107th Squad.”

“Thanks, guys, Mary and Mike caught the original case.”

“Karla Adams?”

“I’m here, US Marshal’s Fugitive Task Force.”

“Wilbur Stone?”

“Here, Lou, I’m on the task force with Karla.”

“Polly Greenburg?”

“Here, Lieutenant, I’m from the RTCC here at One PP.”

“Dennis Phillips?”

“Here, I’m from Cyber Crimes.”

“Sergeant George McBain?”

“I’m here, Lou, resident dinosaur from the Crime Scene Unit.”

“Ricardo Alvarez?”

“Here, Manhattan North Homicide.”

“Rosa Sanchez?”

“Here, Lieutenant, Brooklyn South Homicide”

“Andy Anderson?”

“Here, Bronx Cold Case Squad.”

Pat walked up to the podium.

“Thanks, Lieutenant. Lieutenant Wilson is my executive assistant. If there’s anything you need, see her. As you can see, we have quite a room full of talent. Our mission is simple. We’re going find out what happened to Tony Rodriguez and lock up the person responsible for it. Captain Flannery will be making assignments to run leads after we’re briefed on where we are so far. Mike and Mary, you can start.”

Mike Logan responded.

“I’ll let my partner take center stage.”

Mary McDonald walked to the podium. The men in the room definitely took notice.

“My partner, Mike Logan and I caught the case. The job came into patrol as a radio car run on a man down. Rodriguez was found in a vacant lot near the subway overpass. Thanks to the Chief of D’s, the M.E. did a post mortem last night. Rodriguez was clearly murdered. There was a superficial knife wound in the center of his back, but what killed him was a blow to the back of the head with a blunt object. It fractured his skull and severed his brain stem, killing him instantly. M.E. says it’s clear he was killed somewhere else and dumped. The lividity on the body is inconsistent with the way he was found in the vacant lot. We’re still waiting on toxicology and a few other tests. Tony had a nasty blow to the face, but the M.E. says it probably happened after he was dead, likely from falling to the floor. Interesting thing is that Tony had just consumed some unusually bright blue tortilla chips. The M.E. says that it was minutes before death, not even partially digested. These things are like royal blue. I’ve never seen any chips this color.  Also the techs located a few video cameras in range of the scene, but I have no idea if anything was captured until they review them.  Mike talked to the whip over at OCCB. He was unaware of anything new that Tony was into last night. Tony has quite a few cases pending trials, and they’ll be giving us a list of suspects to see who is out of jail. That’s about it. Any questions?”

“Has Tony’s police car been located?” Pat asked.

“Good question, Chief. We’ve not located it or his departmental or personal cell phones. The car is a silver 2009 Impala New York tags ISJ239.”

“Ok, guys, write it down. Let’s find this car. I bet it’ll be near the crime scene. If we find it, we may be closer to finding where Tony was killed. Make sure we get this out to the uniforms.”

“Do you have anything else Chief? That’s about all we have so far.”

“No, but thank you, Mary, you did a good job.”

“Sergeant McBain, tell us about forensics?”

George walked up to the podium acting like he was a little perturbed about having to be at One PP on a Sunday morning.

“Chief, we’ve got mostly routine stuff waiting on results. I also found a piece of a blue tortilla chip in his clothes. Mary is absolutely right; it is really bright blue, almost like plastic. His clothes are being processed for hair, fibers and DNA. Knife wound is from a double edged knife about two inches wide. We haven’t located the knife. We found no tire tracks or impressions that were usable. Sorry, Chief, I wish we had more.”

“Thanks, George, keep us in the loop.”

Pat walked back to the podium.

“Listen very carefully. Whatever is said in this room stays in this room. We have to keep a lid on this case. If someone tries to pump you for information, send them to me or Captain Flannery regardless of their rank. If you leak information out of here, I’ll get you indicted. Do we understand? I have a task force memorandum of understanding for each of you to sign which basically says the same thing. Once these are signed, I’ll ask Captain Flannery to make the lead assignments.”